How DARE the villainous cads be as clever as the heroes.
When warriors feel afraid they lack something, it is only because they are forgetful. They have forgotten how capable they truly are.
Once the blinders are off, it’s rather hard to go back to seeing things the way you used to.
The people who keep coping, keep trying, no matter how many blows Fate takes at them. Nobody’ll make a song about them, but they’re heroes all the same.
Caught between glass and wood, that which breaks and that which bends, that which sings and that which survive. So our lives go.
Change or stagnate. Keep moving or die.
You don’t spend most of your life in other people’s heads without losing every prejudice you ever had.
It’s hard being a rock; they have such a strange sense of time – and priorities.
Parents always know what strings control your heart and soul. After all, they are the ones who tied them there.
Magic, like technology, is a tool.
It makes sense for people who are good at fighting to go out and do it-because if they’re good at it, that means the fewest number of other people die.
If there are going to be people out there making war on other people, don’t you think it’s a good idea for some of those people to at least follow a code of ethics? Not ‘honor’ but something you can pin down and be sure of, something with the same rules for everybody.
Sympathy can be addictive and can kill strong men as surely as a diet of nothing but sugar.
I always work from an outline, so I know all the of the broad events and some of the finer details before I begin writing the book.
I try to use all of my senses when describing a setting, and try to think of everything that would impact a character in any given scene.
Time doesn’t. All that Time does is make it more distant, put more space between you and what happened. It doesn’t heal anything. I don’t know how or what does the healing, but it isn’t Time.
A book’s alright when the weather’s foul and there’s nothing else to do, but why sit and read when the wind is calling your name?
Evil working in subtler fashion; marriages that proved to be no more then legalized slavery, and the careful manipulation of a bright and sensitive mind until its owner truly believed with all her heart in her own worthlessness. Betrayal, not once, but many times over.
I’m not a legend or a hero, I don’t slay dragons, I don’t do any of the things that a real hero can. But I can make things better, one day at a time, for most of the kingdom.
The hatched chick cannot go back to the shell, the falcon who has found the sky does not willingly sit the nest.